my ride home goes yellow, blue, green, green, green
the staccato of life kicks at my heels,
strokes my back in brittle and lustrous chrome
chrome is the third hardest metal
and comes in any color you want,
but carbon on a finger still wins.
i'm thinking of you (and you and you and you)
what we lost to become more complete
now, the parts of us that are taking and
being taken
how can i be sure it's a zero-sum game
unless i hit zero?
it does not need to be perfect;
i am driving too fast to see
or maybe i meant the opposite.
i am driving too fast to see
it does not need to be perfect.
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